


Crossbow and Kobold

by Bed_Man



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anthro, Anthropomorphic, Fantasy, Human, kobold, reptile - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:40:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29933538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bed_Man/pseuds/Bed_Man
Summary: A hunter encounters a kobold.
Kudos: 1





	Crossbow and Kobold

It was just before dawn, that time when the sun is barely on the horizon to the point where the blackness of night is ever so faintly being filled with color. The whisper of light was enough to wake some of the beasts of the forest, however, as the birds began their chirping, which in turn woke more creatures from their slumber. Rabbits crawled out from their hidden holes and carefully made their way to nearby patches of leafy greens, hurrily eating before any predators could come snatch some hapless hare away for breakfast. Deer and elk began to wander around and drink from the small little river flowing gently downwards towards the lake. Small little bugs buzzed here and there; bees searching for their nectar, butterflies looking for a nice branch to land on, so on and so forth.

And then there was me. I was waiting patiently up in a tree, scanning the forest floor that lay beneath. I had purchased myself in the branches a hour and some change beforehand, as that day was a special day. It was my day for hunting. As I sat up there, crossbow by my side, I searched for my target, who I had scouted out days earlier in anticipation. I knew he was an early waker from my small amount of research, and was waiting for him to pass by. Time came and went, the sun slowly rising and filling the sky in wonderful colors, and I was beginning to wonder if perhaps I had given myself away somehow when finally, I caught sight of him.

He was large and covered in feathers. A thick coat and plenty of muscles caused him to look larger than life. He walked on four legs, but each was tipped with razor sharp talons. His mouth was a sharpened beak, perfect for ripping and tearing any sorry critter he fancied. From his head to his neck, the feathers were white as snow, but everywhere else they were a muddy shade of brown. Indeed, my quarry for the day was none other than an owlbear. He was a mean one, to boot. Local travelers had mentioned he did not like anyone getting too near his nest, which he seemed to consider 'near' as the entire west end of the forest. It was a stroke of pure luck I was able to get this close without notice. Plus, a nice spray of female owlbear urine I'd dripped onto some moss covered bark certainly didn't hurt. 

As the big beast neared the tree I'd marked for him, I slowly picked up my crossbow and began to pull the string back. It wasn't easy to do one handed, so I placed the butt of the stock against my chest and pulled the string with both hands. The closer and closer the string got to the nut, the harder it was to keep spanning. Slowly but surely, the string made its way just beyond the nut and locked into place. While the owlbear sniffed around the tree, I placed a bolt onto the crossbow and took aim. He then began to cirlce that tree for what felt like an hour before returning to the original spot I'd sprayed. Blast, I mentally cursed, the beast was facing away from me now. I had originally been aiming for a quick heart shot. A simple, clean kill. But, with his rear end pointed my way, it made things more difficult. Still, I kept my aim trained, waiting for the perfect moment he would make himself vunerable. I waited and waited, until finally he maneuvered his frame towards the north end of the forest, presenting the right side of his chest to me. With the chance at hand, I took a deep breath then let it out partway, and made my shot.

The sound of the string and metal prod snapping back into place was a sharp crack of thunder, and the bolt took flight. I watched in wonder as the sharp arrowhead swiftly--and deeply--pierced skin, landing with a nice thud and sinking into the owlbear. I kept my crossbow pressed against my cheek, my eye still trained on the point of impact. The owlbear let out a pained screech and began to drunkenly lumber off. I did not climb down and go after the creature immediately. That would be suicidal. A wounded beast is at its most dangerous and unpredictable. I simply lowered my weapon and waited. I turned an ear towards the direction he wandered off, and could slightly hear the sounds of snapping twigs and retreating prey animals. He was moving slow, which meant my shot hit the mark. Sooner or later, he would slump down and breathe his last. But, I was a patient man. I could wait for his death to come on its own. No need to possibly get my stomach torn open running after him. 

I spent my time waiting by watching the sky above me. Through the leaves, I could see the rainbow of colors the sun was turning the morning sky. The purples and reds came first, seeminly setting fire to the black ocean overhead. From the corner of my eye, I could just make out the massive figure of the sun, poking his face up from his nap to greet the world. And slowly but surely, the purples and reds rose higher into the black sea, leaving behind them the yellows and oranges. The once nearly impossible to see clouds lit up, become the white balls of cotton they normally seem, and they began to lazily drift about in the winds. Idly I watched as the clouds took shape, some forming the design of a man holding a spear, others coming together to show a disfigured mouse. Eventually, the sky came alight in the true blue we all come to expect, and I decided then was a good time to go find my prize.

I gathered my quiver of bolts and slung my crossbow over my back, tightened the little rope tied to its stock, and started to make my descent from the branches. Once my feet were back on solide ground, I carefully followed after the wounded beast, taking note of my surroundings in case I got lost. With that done, I began to search for signs of the owlbear's whereabouts; tracks of blood or lost feathers or some such. In a small patch of mud, I found a massive paw print with deep indentations above the four top pads, signifying the talons. The print looked to be heading south, which was further reinforced when I stumbled upon tiny little pools of blood. I continued southwards until I saw him. He was lying on his side, chest unmoving, my bolt sticking out from his massive feathery hide, its end almost pointed straight to the heavens. From the wound, I could see a small stream of blood oozing out, staining his brown feathers a rusted color. 

Taking precaution, I hurriedly pulled forth my crossbow, spanned it as quickly as possible, and aimed another bolt at the creature. I kept aim on the beast as I moved towards its flank, my pace calm and confident, but careful. I'd heard tales of animals playing dead to surprise a poor hunter and try to take a chuck of flesh away. I would not have that fate be mine. Once behind the still monster, I eased forward and kicked a hind leg. When I got no response, I kicked harder, this time aiming for what would be a knee. Still no movement. Erring on the side of survival, I let loose the bolt, landing it right next to my first shot, albeit a bit of a diagonal angle. I heard nothing from the owlbear. I saw nothing. It was well and truly dead.

I let out a little chuckle and put away the crossbow and set down my pack, almost berating myself for being so paranoid. But, always better safe than sorry, eh. I walked up to the broadside of the beast and marveled at my work. A perfect shot, if I would say so myself. No muss, no fuss. Now, the hard part was at hand: turning the thing over onto its back so I could begin dressing it. I wasn't entirely thrilled to do this alone, but I came this far, so might as well finish things nice and proper. I grabbed the bolts sticking out his side and tried to ease them out. The original shot came out nicely enough, but the second shot did not wish to move. I figured the angle of penetration might have got it stuck into something, perhaps it snapped itself into a bone. Whatever the case may be, I could not pry it loose, so I decided to just let it be stubborn. I pulled out a large canvas and rolled the beast onto it as best I could. 

Taking hold of the right fore and hind legs, I began to pull, and the owlbear did not put up too much of a fight as I turned him over onto his back. A wonderous creature, I told myself. Where it not for his attacking people, I would like to think he'd have lived a long life in the forest. Oh well, I shrugged, and pulled out my carving dagger and got to work. It was time to gut the owlbear. I carved the dagger into the chest and sliced down, opening the animal up, and at once was assaulted with the hot stench of its innards. While I was used to similar smells from hunting other animals, I still found it unpleasant. Regardless, I knelt down and pulled out the intestines, setting them down outside the carcass. Next came to stomach, which I had to be careful with, else I risked opening it up and spoiling the meat. I slowly pulled the stomach out from its cavity and placed it beside the intestines. The liver and kidneys came next, which I cut out and put them down on a wide rock nearby, far away from the stomach and the intestines. The lungs were removed after that, and then my personal favorite: the heart. Not many people like owlbear heart, or any heart for that matter, but I found hearts to be a nice small meal. If prepared correctly, they tasted like any other meat from the animal. Hearts have barely any fat, and are surprisingly fairly tender despite pumping nonstop. Pulling some small pouches from my pack, I wrapped up the liver, kidneys, and heart, and put them aside for now. I was then ready to skin the owlbear.

I set to work on the hind legs, cutting just beneath the lare pad and slicing into the inner thigh. Along the inner thigh, the feathers were softer and thinner, which made the skinning go by a lot smoother. To get the feet off, I cut the connecting tendons and snapped the joint, deciding to fully skin the feet later. For the front legs, I started from the initial chest cut and worked to the elbow in a straight line, then moved along upwards to the feet, which I also cut the tendons and such on. It was time to flip him over to begin cutting away the rest of the skin. By the gods, even without his innards, he wasn't exactly light. But, the work wasn't too hard, and soon enough I was pulling the skin off and up, until all that was left was the head. I figured I could sell the pelt as a rug or something, so I needed to keep the head with the rest of the hide. If this were for personal use, I would have cut the head off, as I never saw a decent use for them. But, a full pelt would earn me more money. I slowly sliced along the head, making sure to keep the eyes intact. When I got along the beak, I slipped the blade into the skin of the head and began to pull the beak loose. I heard a slight noise, looking to see I had formed a small crack in the side of the beak. I sighed and just kept going. A cracked beak was still a beak, in my opinion. I could just haggle the price some if someone questioned about the crack. As I pulled the skin loose, I smiled at the work. A nice full pelt. I set it down on the ground and flared it out some, letting it dry a bit while I cut the meat. 

And onto the meat. Interesting meat, owlbears have. It's such an odd combination of red meat and fowl that's hard to decribe. It isn't the best meat in the world, honestly, but it's worth the experience if you have the chance to try it. I cut and carved that meat like I was some kind of trained butcher, when in truth the cuts would probably serve to piss off a butcher even halfway decent at his craft. After each chunk of meat was removed, I carefully wrapped it in some leather, put the bundle into a pouch, and set it aside with the heart and whatnot. I realized I wouldn't be able to keep all the meat, as I didn't have room in my pack for all of it, not to mention all the extra weight, so I got what I knew I could carry. Placing all the pouches into my pack, I then went to the pelt and rolled it into a small bundle and wrapped some twine around it to secure it tight. I picked up the bundle, put on my pack, and set off out of the forest.

I headed east, back to my little hunting spot from earlier, then in a northeastern direction from there. Nothing seemed to bother me during my walk. Small critters kept their distance, I didn't notice any sign of predators, even now that the sun was fully risen. Hell, bugs barely even seemed to want to get in my way. It was a good morning. A nice simple kill, nothing in my way, and once I got home, I could finish the pelt, cook some of the meat for a nice meal, then head to the nearby town to get a nice reward for the owlbear's bounty, and even some extra money on top for selling the pelt and meat. Did I only hunt this thing because there was a reward involved? Perhaps. Perhaps not. The fact of the matter was it was dead, and wouldn't be bothering people anymore. Getting some pay for doing a good deed like that is just a nice bonus, I say. A perfect end to a good hunt.

My cabin wasn't too far, as I lived right on the eastern edge of the forest where the trees ended. I'd managed to get a nice deal on the cabin, buying it from an older hunter who was retiring. I could still remember the smile on his face when I accepted his offer without hesitation. It was a decent price, and he seemed tired of haggling with other people from what I could tell. He had mentioned wanting to live closer to his son and see his grandchildren more, so I ate the expense and coughed up the full payment he was asking. It wasn't terribly expensive though, so it all worked out in the end.

As I neared the end of the forest line, I could just make out the slight rise of a hill beyond the trees. And behind that hill sat my cabin, the sunbeams coming down and playing off the dew drops in the grass surrounding the wooden exterior. Sitting there, so close to the forest, it was the perfect home for a hunter. The dark oaken walls were strong and sturdy enough to resist all manner of weather. A brick chimney rose up from the backside of the house, and on those cold nights, one would see the smoke billowing out while I sat cozy and warm in my favorite chair. The red painted window shutters had been left closed while I was gone, so I would have to open them once inside to air out the interior. On summer days like that one, the cabin could get a bit stuffy. Spanning the side of the building, I'd planted a bit of a garden full of various herbs and vegetables, and the day was drawing closer and closer when I would finally harvest them. Leaning against the side of the house were a few tools; a hoe for the garden, a spade, and a woodcutting axe, all lined up beside one another. At the front of the house stood the heavy door, darker in color than the outside walls, nearly black. It had stood strong and hard in the face of a rabid boar one season, and as such it proudly displayed the battle scars in the form of scratchmarks from the tusks. The place wasn't fancy looking, but it was mine, and after years living on the road, I felt like I earned a nice little place for myself.

With a smile on my face, I made the final steps up to my home. I fumbled some with getting my key out, as I'd put it in my pack and it had been shifted underneath all the pouches of meat and organs. When I finally found it, I swiftly entered my home and put everything down for a breather. It was still early morning, so it wasn't too hot yet, but carrying a full pack, my crossbow, and the pelt all the way home had me sweating. As I stood there by the door, just taking a moment to rest, my eyes swept across the room in passing.

The entrance of the cabin showed a modest lifestyle. To the left was the den. The den held a small bookcase, which I had opted to fill with not books, but with various tools. Each shelf held different things. The top shelf was full of scent lures held in little vials, each vial had a small slip of paper tied to them that held writing to say what scent was held within. The middle shelf had bundles of bolts stacked together in two piles; blunts for small game and broadheads for big game. Spaced about on the bottom shelf were some simple tools I used to keep up maintenance around the house; hammers and nails, an auger, a chisel. Basic things. In the center of the room was my favorite chair. Furs lined the seat and back to act as a cushion, and they felt so comfortable and cozy. Once I would sink into those furs, I could just end up sleeping right there, it was so nice. I even had a small footrest placed in front of the seat. The footrest lacked the nice fur cushioning, however. It was just a common stool. Nearby my chair was the round dining table. Not very large, as it fit only three small chairs, but I had never needed the extras either way. I did most of the upkeep on my crossbow or bolts there. Along the floor were a few rugs, mainly because I liked the way the rugs felt underfoot. I didn't care for their appearances much, seeing as they did not mesh together aesthetically speaking. One was a fur rug made of traditional bear hide that I placed direcly under my chair. Another was of woven linen stretched across the far side of the room next to the bookcase. The final two were red and blue dyed wool rugs that were spaced nearer the front door. 

To the right of the entrance was a small kitchen of sorts. The hearth sat in its brick home, a thin hanging bar of iron ran the length above. During the winter, the hearth would see more use for heating than just for cooking. But even still, I was not an idiot when it came to food preparation. I wouldn't say I was some kind of chef, but I'd been able to keep myself alive this long, so I must have been doing something right. Near the hearth, on the floor, was a wooden hatch. Down the hatch was the basement, where I stored most of my food. A nice and cool spot, the basement was. It wasn't a large space down there, but it served its function well and had enough room for whatever I needed. I didn't even know the cabin had a basement until I'd already bought it. The old man never made mention of it, oddly. If he did, he might have managed to get more money out of the deal. 

Across from the entrance was the doorway to my bedroom. I rarely, if ever, kept the door closed, and so I could easily see within from the entrance. Living alone has the benefit of not needing to worry about privacy because you already got it. Within the room was my bed, a slightly raised furred mattress sitting beneath the window. On one side of the bed was stationed a bookshelf, this one actually had books. It wasn't a large collection, and most of the books were fairly old, but I made a habit of reading every now and then. Pressed up against the wall was a chest of drawers, where I kept my clothes. I didn't have anything out of the ordinary, just some comfortable clothes and anything necessary like cloaks or such. On the other side sat a small desk I would sometimes read at, though mostly I did such in the chair in the den. On the desk was placed a candleholder, the candle itself looked to be nearing the end of its lifespan, the wax so close to the flat top of its holder it may as well not even be there. I'd have to remind myself later to change out the candle. 

I unrolled the owlbear pelt to allow it to dry, placing it near the hearth. I then put down my crossbow, leaning it against the corner of the entrance next to the door, and decided to head down to the basement first. I needed to put away the meat and such while I prepared my meal. While down there, I also picked up a bottle of ale. Nothing too hard and heavy, honestly, but something tasty to go with the owlbear meat. As I began to climb back up the ladder, I heard a strange sound from just outside the front door. Initially thinking it might just be the wind, I ignored it and started up the hearth by striking a flint and steel. Once the tinder was alight, I pulled out some salt and pepper to season the meat. While doing so, I heard that same strange noise from outside again. This time, my curiosity was struck, and I went to investigate. Being careful, I took my dagger in hand and opened the door with a start, hoping that if anyone was out there they might be suprised at the sudden movement. 

Nothing. Narrowing my eyes, I then made a circle around my home, trying to find whatever the source of the sound was. Still, I came up empty. Perhaps I imagined the noise, I told myself. Back inside, I went to cook the meat, searing it well enough to create a perfect crust outside and just the right amount of red on the inside. I wasn't some amazing chef or anything, but I at least knew enough to not starve. With my meat cooked, I sat down at the table in the den to eat. It was delicious. A fully belly later, and I was ready to head off to town and sell my gains. One quick trip to the basement, then a rolling up of the pelt, and I was off.

The town was one by the name of Raven Rock, named as such due to the large rock in the center of town that supposedly looked like its namesake. In my opinion, it didn't look much like any bird, but then again I wasn't the one in charge of things. The place wasn't fairly old, maybe a little over a hundred years. But, in that time, it had bloomed into a prosperous trade hub. This was helped in no small part due to the fact Raven Rock bordered the sea. Ships from all over would come to the town, some seeking to sell treasures they'd collect on their voyages, others wanting to partake in the gambling houses, and still others just looking to try the local flavors, both in food and people. Even without the ships, however, Raven Rock saw plenty of foot traffic. Most of the people were merchants looking to buy, sell, and trade all manner of things. If you wanted something, chances were you could find it in Raven Rock. 

My humble abode was situated about an hour's walk from the town. My regular trips to and from the town helped keep me in shape; another perk of having my home be located where it was. It was still fairly early, so there weren't too many people along the road, but I did see the occassional merchant cart bumping along. The closer I came to Raven Rock however, the more and more people I began to see. There, a fancy looking carriage full of what I assumed to be nobles. Here, a group of dwarves walking in perfect step together while whistling some folk song. Over there hanging out of the side of a wagon, some drunken fools happily greeting anyone who passed them by. Raven Rock was a place everyone came to, from the wealthiest lord down to the poorest pickpocket. 

As all us travelers rose up the side of a hill, we were all greeted with the sight of the vast Marl Sea. As the wind carried along the salty breeze, I swear I could almost taste the very waves themselves. And with the sea came sailors on their ships, and at dock were quite a number of them, especially a certain favorite of mine. The Red Queen she went by, and she was the one from whom I bought all my rum. If she was in port, it meant I'd have the chance to get some more of that delectable drink. A smile found its way to my face at the thought, and I could feel my steps becoming just a bit quicker. 

Soon enough, I found myself at the gates to town, and the guards were waving me inside. Despite my desire to see the Red Queen, I had some things to attend to first, such as collecting my bounty for the owlbear's death. The sheriff's office was relatively close to the gates I had entered from, so I hurried my way there. The office itself was a nice little place, one I had been used to visiting every now and again. This wasn't the first time I'd killed a beast that had some coin attached to it, after all. The building was stonework, old stone at that, and always looked to be in need of some repairs, be it the roof having a small hole or two, a wall needing its masonry patched, or even the front door hanging loose on only one hinge. It was never more than one thing at a time, but I'd never seen the place in perfect condition. 

Once I moved my way through the crowds and to the office, I walked in, to be greeted to the sight of a bald headed man at the desk. Without a second's hesitation, I slammed the pelt on top of the counter and said quite emphatically with a smile, "Morning, Sheriff Anders. One dead owlbear, freshly killed this morning." 

The sheriff, for his part, did not so much as flinch. It seemed he had become used to my manner of greeting him. He gave me a lazy look as he eyed me. "Hello, Rayner," his monotonous voice sounded out. "Owlbear, eh?" Reaching down, he pulled out a book, and after opening it up, he began to write some things down. I assumed he was recording the date and person the bounty was collected by. "Was wondering who took up the bounty," he mumbled while writing. "Nobody tells me nothing." 

"Eh, I guess that's a conversation you'd need to take up with that deputy of yours, then," I said with a shrug. The deputy was a new kid, fresh faced and young. When I took the bounty, he didn't seem to want to bother Sheriff Anders about it. I couldn't blame the kid. Anders a was a big bald guy, a mountain of a man when he stood up proper. Pretty intimidating figure, if you asked me. Poor kid probably thought Anders would be annoyed over a trivial matter like a bounty. 

He looked up from his writing. "That who you took the bounty from?" I nodded, and he then made a little grunt and resumed writing. After finishing up whatever he was doing, he reached into a drawer and pulled out a wooden lockbox. As he opened it, the golden allure of money could be seen from within. Slowly, the sheriff began to count out the reward money, one single coin at a time. If I didn't know any better, I could almost detect a hint of smile as he did this. This was always how he did this, as if to get me back for my loud way of greeting him. And to think, I was always so nice to speak up so he could hear me properly. Once the coins were all painstakingly counted out, I thanked the sheriff for his time and made my way to go sell. 

If you wanted to sell your wares in Raven Rock, you needed to first find a good spot, somehwere a lot of people would come across you and your items. When I initially started in town, I was selling on a canvas sheet next to an alley by the gambling house. A decent place to be sure, but I knew I needed someplace better if I wanted to make more money. So, I set to work on conversing with other merchants, making connections, hunting more and more to sell more and more, until eventually I secured myself a small stall close to the center of town. It wasn't right next to the titular rock itself, but it could still be seen nearby. Plenty of people made their way around there, so I had found the perfect place for myself. 

During my little detour to the sheriff's office, things had gotten a bit busier in the streets. More and more people were around, shops were opening up in full, and the sounds and smells of the city poured out around me. The clanging of iron and steel as the blacksmith hammered away. The oh so enticing scent of freshly baking bread from around the corner. The yells of children scurrying about. The thunderous stomping of boots upon stone as people went this way and that. That odd scent of leather from the cobbler's shop nearby. Truly, this was a veritable place of industry. 

I hurried to my stall, wanting to beat the majority of early shoppers, so I hopefully manage a few good deals. As I weaseled about the center large stone in town, I could see my stall off to the side. A plain thing, it was. A simple countertop for presenting items, and a little overhead portion I would hang choice meats from to entice people. Today, however, I had a different plan for the overhead. As I made towards my stall, I began to unroll the owlbear pelt, and once at the stall proper, I quickly went to work hanging it up. I made sure to face the feathered portion towards the street, with the head hanging upside down so all knew exactly what this pelt once belonged to. Not many people had encountered an owlbear, I assumed. With that over with, I then pulled out the meats and few organs and placed them upon a small sheet on the countertop.

Almost as soon as I was finished my preparations, a group of people rushed over and began examining the pelt, making little quips over how big the beast was. When one asked me if I killed it myself, and I answered in the affirmative, they all gathered together to the side and began whispering amongst themselves. Odd bunch, I thought. But, while they were busy with their whispering, a tall figure came up to the stall. They were a pale faced one, taller than the top of the tall, thin as a stick, and upon their head curled two ram-like horns. An elf.

Elves were weird. Rather new to our country, too, so many were still adjusting to their presence. The hardest thing to understand about elves was the way they talked. They all had this odd accent, and sometimes used words in their native tongue, making talking with them a bit of a struggle. Some elves adopted by just using gestures and body language in lieu of speech. This one seemed to be of that same persuasion as they pointed to the heart on the counter, then pulled out their coinpurse. 

"The heart? Well, I can let it go for about fifteen," I said, preparing to hand it over. But, before I did so, the elf then picked out some coins and placed them down on the stall. Counting them, I totaled nine. Looking back up at the elf, I almost smirked. "Ya wanna haggle, huh? Well, I'm sorry friend, but I'm not going any lower than fifteen. So unless you can find someone else around here selling fresh owlbear heart, either pay or don't bother." 

I could see a hint of annoyance in their eyes as they huffed and then put down three additional coins. I was almost impressed with their insistence on haggling. Almost. 

Putting on as business-like a smile as I could, I lowered my voice a bit. "Now listen here, friend. I told you it's fifteen. Don't go insulting me like this. Now, either you pay what I ask, or you leave and stop wasting both of our times." This seemed to get to them, as they let out another huff and finally paid the full fifteen. I politely thanked them for their patronage and handed off the heart.

They took hold of the heart and began to throughouly examine it, poking it, prodding it, smelling it for some reason. They even poked their long fingers into the valves on top. Seemingly satisfied, the elf then plucked the heart between two fingers, and began to devour it raw. Anyone nearby shied away from them, some even looking like they were threatening to puke. The display even got me feeling a bit sickened. The elf was getting bits of the heart on their face as they ate, blood dripping down their chin. After eating, the elf gave me a small bow and went on their merry way. 

Elves. 

After the elf was far from view, the previous group interested in the pelt came back. The man in front, who was dressed in a fine blue robe of some kind--he was probably one of them spellslingers from the mage guild--stepped up. After clearing his throat, he said, "We talked it over. We'll offer a hundred for the hide."

If I had something to drink, I'd have spit it out. Instead, my jaw was hanging. "A hundred? Owlbears aren't that expensive," I explained. "At the highest, they go for maybe forty." The sheer fact they were willing to pay this much was insane. 

"We have our reasons for the high payment," he answered with a rolling of his hand, as if gesturing for me not to ask the obvious question.

I did not follow his hand's advice. "And that reason is?"

He looked me square in the eyes. "None of your damned business." 

Putting my hands up in mock defense, I said, "Fair enough. Who am I to not accept more money, right?" The man put down a small bag, which I made sure to count carefully before letting him and his friends leave with the pelt. Sure enough, one hundred glittering coins were sitting inside. With this...rather interesting transaction complete, the group rolled up the pelt and left. 

After those two incidents, the rest of my stock went by with normal interactions. Nothing out of the ordinary except for a dwarf coming up and asking how exactly I killed the beast. All in all, I came out with a pretty profit in the end. With my coinpurse now weighed down a bit more than usual, it was now time to go check out the docks and see my favorite ship. And since my stock was now gone, I had a good excuse to head out,

The docks were like any other, I suppose. Large wooden platforms all lined up in a row shooting out towards the waters, and between the platforms were various ships tied up. All along the way, sailors and crewmen were mucking about, either taking things off the ship, or putting them on. But, only one ship was my focus: the Red Queen. And she was tied up at the second to last dock. She was a true marvel. Massive. Towering. Finely crafted out of the hardiest wood you could use for a ship. Large red sails were how she got her name, and never was there a hole or tear in the fabric. The dark wood of the ship was accented with black paint along the railings. And there, standing near the bow of the ship, overseeing the crew unloading cargo, was just the man I was looking for. 

As I neared the ship, the dark-skinned man smiled when he saw me. He opened his arms wide and shouted out, "Rayner! Ah, so good to see you again." He practically jumped over the side of the ship to reach me, and when he did, he pulled me into a tight embrace that almost cracked one of my ribs. Always with the hugs, this one. Captain Faye and I went back some years. I knew him in my previous life before coming to Raven Rock, and he used to be a good source of info and decent jobs. And never, not once, not a single goddamn time, did he ever go a greeting without one of those bone breaking hugs. 

I pushed the captain off me before he could break my spine. "Yes, yes, always a sight for sore eyes, eh?" I smoothed out my clothes and stood a few steps away, worried he might embrace me again. He was a good man, but I didn't need my lungs punctured any time soon. Pulling my coinpurse out, I jangled the coins within. "I've got some purchases to make, Faye. I hope you have some of that rum from last time." 

While laughing, he said, "Oh-ho, I told you you'd love it. And don't you worry your little head, I made sure to keep some saved away special just for you, friend." He waved over to one of the crew, and they dashed off only to return with a small crate. "No one was allowed to touch these bottles the entire way here, else I'd have their bloody hands." 

"Well, I must admit, I didn't think rum was something for me. But, of course, you were right." I was usually an ale and mead kind of man. But that rum surprised me. I would be keeping these bottles for a long time, I was sure. I would probably only drink them on special occassions, like the anniversary of my coming to live here. Probably. Definitely wouldn't just drink all of them within a month. 

I handed over an appropriate amount to pay for the bottles, and Faye accepted without even checking the coins. He knew I wouldn't cheat him. Just like I knew he wouldn't do the same. He clapped me on the back and said, "Ya know, you really should join the crew on one of our trips. You'd get to see some real nice places." 

He'd made this offer before a few times. Just like those other times, I declined. "Eh, I've been on a ship before. My stomach ain't cut out for it. Besides, I don't think I could stand being in a cramped cabin with a bunch of sailors. Now, if they were female, that'd be different." 

The captain smirked and shook his head. "Trust me when I tell ya, you don't wanna be around a bunch of women sailors. Cruel women, they can be." 

"Sounds like you're speaking from experience." I crossed my arms and awaited an further explanation. 

He waved a hand as if trying to shut me up. "Bah!" And that was his only response to my non-question. 

The two of us talked for some time, catching up a little before the dear captain was called away to deal with some paperwork. We wished one another a fine day and I figured now was as good a time as any to head home. My coinpurse still pretty hefty, and a small crate of booze proved today was rather worth the effort. To make matters better, the crate was less heavy than my pack full of meat and the pelt combined, so my journey back home would be a little easier than the one to town. 

The sun was beginning to set as I made it outside the gates and back on the road. I noticed while walking that the roads were emptier than that morning. Made sense. Most of the people who wanted to get to Raven Rock were already within. I didn't mind it, though. Less people just meant more freedom for me to walk. But, with barely anyone on the road, it made the trip pretty uneventful. It wasn't long before I was closing in on my house. A sense of relief washed over me to be back. It wasn't that I disliked Raven Rock or its people. Far from it, in fact. It was just I loved living out here alone more. The solitude and quiet were so nice. But, as I neared closer and closer to my home, I saw something that set my warm feeling to ice over. The front door was wide open.

A raging river threatened to burst through the dam of my mind as the realization hit me. Someone was in my home. MY home. I took a few deep calming breaths before I did anything else. Didn't need to let my anger consume me. Even if it would be perfectly justified for me to allow that to happen. Once the river rapids inside smoothed out a bit, I set the crate of rum down and pulled out my dagger. I never left home without it, just in case. With my grip tight, I slid in close to the door and dared a peek inside. No one around. Everything seemed perfectly in place, save for one thing. The hatch to the basement was open. Whoever had intruded into my home was stealing food. My food. Food I'd gathered myself. The meat, hunted. The vegetables, home grown. The fruits...admittedly, they were bought, but still they were mine. I looked just beyond the door and saw my crossbow resting where I left it. 

Sheathing my blade, I stepped inside my house and closed the door silently behind me. I then picked up my crossbow, spanned it and loaded it quickly, and waited right where I was. My aim was trained right on the hatch, my body positioned between the kitchen and the front door. Whatever criminal thought they could steal from me would be sorely mistaken. Of course, I didn't really want to kill someone, but they didn't need to know that. A little fear would do them some good, I thought. From down the ladder, I could hear the sound of someone beginning to climb up. Something poked up from the ladder; a pair of two black, back-facing horns growing out of a red scaly scalp. So, it appeared my thief was one of the lizardfolk. 

I cleared my throat and spoke up, "I hope you have a good reason why you're trespassing." 

A small yip of fear sounded back, followed by a raspy voice shouting back at me, "Arki mean no harm. No kill Arki." 

"Get up here." I barked out the order.

Slowly, the reptilian thief resumed their climb, and I got a better look at them. Their face was a bit angular, and ended in an elongated and rounded snout, reminding me of those alligators I'd seen some years back. I noticed that they had a few splotches of darker red scales running down the side and back of their neck, and those spots probably continued down their bodies. Around their neck was an odd looking collar of some sort. They also wore a rather dirty, tattered looking tunic. It was too large for them, and covered their entire torso down to what I supposed would be considered their knees. Their hands ended in four fingers, each with a dull little black claw. Below the knees, their legs stretched out in a way similar to a dog's hind legs. Their feet held three digits, and like their fingers, each digit had a dulled claw. From behind them, I could see a short tail held limply, unmoving. A strap was stretched diagonally across their chest, and ended with a leather satchel hanging by their hip. I assumed the food they'd stolen was stored within. 

Also, the reptile was pretty small, possibly half my size. Maybe slightly taller, but I didn't exactly feel like getting closer to properly measure. 

A kobold. Joy of joys. 

I narrowed my eyes. "What are you doing here? Besides stealing my food, obviously." 

Their slitted pupils seemed fixated on the tip of my crossbow, probably awaiting for me to pull the trigger. 

"Answer me!" I was beginning to lose my patience. 

The kobold jumped slightly at the increased volume and shifted their focus to meet my gaze. "Arki hungry. Human have much food. Never notice small bit go missing." 

Never notice? The gears in my head started to turn. "Have you stolen from me before?"

The red lizard nodded their little head. "Arki only take small bit each time. Not enough for human see, but enough so Arki not starve." 

The little thief! How dare they take MY things. And to be so brazen about doing this multiple times? My vision went red, and I could hear a voice in the back of my mind telling me to just shoot the lizard and be done with it. I took another deep breath before making a mistake I'd regret. There was no need for bloodshed. When I could feel the anger leave me, I started talking again. "Ya know, I have half a mind to bring you down to Raven Rock and have them lock you up." 

"Raven Rock?" They said this with malice in their raspy voice, as if insulted I even brought up the town's name. "Town people not like Arki. Tell her she not welcome."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh gee, people aren't warm and welcoming to a dirty thief? Color me shocked." Not a surprise the townspeople disliked the kobold. I recalled a time when a dwarven thief was going around town, and when he got caught, the town shipped him off on a prison ship. 

Wait. 'Her?' 'She?' So, it seemed my little intruder was a female kobold. So hard to tell the differences with these damn lizards. 

The kobold stamped a foot down in protest. "Arki not thief! Arki survivor. Human have much food, he could never eat all."

My patience was wearing thin by this point. "Alright, enough!" I lowered my crossbow and let out an angered breath. "I don't give a damn what you think you are. You're a thief, plain and simple. Now, I'm gonna offer you a choice." I pointed my chin towards the satchel at her hip. "Drop the bag, leave my home, and never return." 

She clutched her bag tightly against her chest. "What second choice?" I could see a look of desperation in her eyes.

I tapped a finger against the side of my crossbow. "I shoot you right now." The sound of claws on wood came as she scurried backwards a few feet. Obviously, she did not like that option. Of course, I wouldn't actually do it. But, I needed her to think I would, so I kept my face calm and neutral, not giving away my true feelings. 

The small red lizard mulled over her choices with a worried look to her. I understood that look all too well. A look of knowing there was no way you could accept either option. You desperately needed your ill-gotten gains, but you were trapped with no way out.

As if struck with inspiration, the kobold let out a small noise. "Arki have idea!" she exclaimed. A raising of an eyebrow was my way of asking her to continue. "Arki...Arki can work for food. 

"Arki good worker," she continued. "She know how care for home. She able do anything human ask." The little red lizard seemed to perk up during her little talk, puffing her chest out in pride and widening her stance. She seemed to be happy to present her would-be application, as it were. But, there was also something else to her. Underneath that pride, I still saw that desperate look in her eyes. A pleading underneath it all. A longing for safety, a place to be without fear, without worry.

Little thing probably didn't have anywhere to go, and was throwing her lot in with me in hopes of having someplace. I could relate to that. I lived that life, once. It wasn't until someone took pity on me and offered me a helping hand that I was able to break free of that life and make it to where I was now. If it wasn't for that, I would likely still be living in poverty. Perhaps...perhaps this kobold needed that selfsame help. But, would it right for me to do so? Should I just turn her to a poorhouse or a church? No, those places never helped me in my time of need, and I doubted they'd do much good for one of the lizardfolk. I decided then that I was going to do for her what was once done for me.

I pretended to be in deep thought, bringing a hand to my chin, scratching at my beard, making exagerrated humming noises. I could see the kobold squeeze her satchel tighter, balling her little fists into the leather so hard it was a wonder her claws didn't poke holes in the bag. I kept up my little act for a minute or so, until finally, I made like I came up with a brilliant plan. 

"Alright, little lizard," I said. "Here's the deal. You'll work for me, doing whatever I ask. I say 'clean the house', you do it. 'Work in the garden', you do it. So on and so forth." I removed the bolt from the crossbow and carefully pulled the string out of its lock, then put the weapon down. A show of good faith. "In exchange, you'll get food and shelter here, in my home. Do we have a deal?" I finished off by extending a hand. She flinched and ducked her head at my offered limb like I was going to strike her. Making a face, I pulled the hand back, at which point the kobold looked back up. 

She took some time looking me over, as if unsure if I was being serious. Her slitted pupils scanned me over several times. "Human...serious?" I offered her a short nod. A wide grin broke across her muzzle, and she reached out, grabbing my hand between both of hers and violently shaking it. "Yes. Yes, Arki make deal. She swear be good worker." The little thing was squeezing my hand about as tight as her satchel earlier, but the look her face wore helped dull the discomfort. 

After pulling my hand free, I pointed to her bag. "First things first, I need you to put all that back. And, in the future, you are to refrain from stealing." 

Without missing a beat, the kobold dashed back down to the basement with a chirp of, "Yes yes, Arki return." It wasn't even a minute later when she popped back up from the ladder and stood before me again. 

It was time I laid the ground rules with her. "Follow me," I said, as I led her towards the table in the den. But, when I sat down, I noticed she did not take one of the other chairs available, electing to stand. Giving it no thought, I began my explanation. "From here on, you're working for me. Now, I don't want you thinking this is some sort of punishment for stealing. If you truly do wish to leave, you're more than welcome to. I'm not really going to send you to jail." I let that hang for a minute or so, seeing how she'd react. She simply stood there, hands clasped together behind her back, seemingly waiting for whatever I had to say further.

With a mental shrug, I continued, "What this is, is me attempting to help you. I'm sure you've probably been on the road for a time, and I know personally just how that is. So, I'm gonna teach you what I know. You'll learn all that I have to teach, and hopefully through that, you'll come to some sort of decision on what to do with yourself." She took my words in silence, simply staring at me as I talked. I wasn't sure if she even understood what I meant, or if she just did not know how to respond. Either way, I figured I might as well get to the task of teaching.

"Right then," I proclaimed, clasping my hands together, "how about you tell me just what you're capable of." 

She blinked twice, seemingly breaking herself out of a stupor, and stood up straight and tall once more. "Arki know how cook, clean, and sew. She best kobold at these." Slapping a hand to her chest, she went on, "And she good learning, too. Any task told, Arki get done. She always hard worker and deserving much praise." 

Interesting. I didn't know of any kobolds that could do anything worthwhile. Then again, this red one was perhaps the third or fourth one I had ever encountered, so my ideas on the lizards might have been be biased. Point being, I was surprised she knew how to take care of a place but was living in ragged clothes and resorting to thievery. There definitely must have been a story to this, I assumed. Of course, she might have just been lying.

"Alright then, little lizard..." I started off.

But the kobold quickly interjected with, "Arki name not lizard. Not kobold, too. Arki name Arki. Fool human not pay attention what she say whole time."

I was about to say something in my defense, but found she was correct. I'd never referred to her by name, not even in thought. "Fair enough," I admitted. "I suppose I should introduce myself as well. Name's Rayner." 

She snorted at that, seemingly amused. 

And I suppose Arki sounds any better, I thought in my head, but bit my tongue before speaking it aloud. After letting out a breath, I started again. "Ok then, Arki," I said, adding extra emphasis on her name, "is that all you know?" 

She opened her maw to say something, but quickly closed it, followed by her twiddling her dull-clawed thumbs together. It took her a minute or two to come up with something to say. Eventually, she managed to get out, "Yes, that all Arki know." Her words came slow and calm.

I figured there was something more to this. But, we'd only just met, so it wasn't entirely out of the ordinary for someone to not be up-front with everything about themselves. I hoped she'd come around at some point, but until then, I decided not to pry. Moving on from that oddity, I presented Arki with a warm smile. I then rose from my chair and made my way towards the kitchen.

Looking over my shoulder, I gave a simple order, "Go downstairs and grab a nice cut of venison, some potatoes, and a clove of garlic." I blinked, and Arki was gone, already hurrying down the ladder. It was almost funny just how quick she was to act. While she was busying herself downstairs, I took a quick look around the kitchen, and felt something was missing. Something I was forgetting.

The rum! It was still outside. 

A quick jaunt outside later and the crate was in my home, where it belonged. And one of the bottles just happened to come open at some point, no clue how that could have happened. There was no good sense in wasting good rum, so I decided to have a little drink. Black Mountain rum, one of the finest on the market. Well, to me it was, at least. I was pouring out a second shot when Arki made her way up from the basement to greet me with a armful of food. 

"What do now?" she asked after placing the food down on the nearby countertop. 

"Now," I explained as I knocked back the second shot of rum, "you're going to show me how you cook." I followed up by reminding her, "You said you were the best kobold at it, after all." 

The kobold, for her part, nodded her head and got to work. Starting off, she lit the hearth, then set about slicing up the ingredients. I had to admit, she really looked like she knew her way around a kitchen. Kinda surprising, as I always heard kobolds lived in mountain caves and such. Not a lot of household kitchens in a dark hole. Regardless, the little lizard woman was impressive. She peeled the potatoes each with an odd spiralling cut that took the entire skin off without breaking. The way she cut and diced the garlic with such precision, it was a wonder she didn't already have some kind of position as a chef in a noble's house or something of the sort. By the time she was ready to actually cook everything, I was beginning to feel ashamed of my own rudimentary kitchen skills. 

While everything was cooking all nice and proper, I decided to waste time reading an old book in my room. It was an old mage's journal, describing his travels looking for alchemical ingredients. I couldn't recall why I bought this dusty tome, since I had no use for alchemy, but the tales of the mage's encounters with wild chimeras and drakes proved to be a rather fun read. While pouring through a story where the mage claimed he saw a unicorn, the raspy voice of Arki called out.

"Food done!" 

I came out my room to a wave of delicious smells. There, placed on the table in the den, was the plate of food, all lined in a neat little formation. The meat sat beneath a bed of potatoes and a sprinkle of garlic. The chair was already pulled out, and a cloth was folded next to the plate in anticipation for the one who would gladly eat it all. Arki stood next to the table, hands behind her back, head bowed slightly. I took a final look at the food and walked over to Arki. Placing a hand on her shoulder, I gently pushed her towards the ready chair. She looked up at me shocked, and her body went rigid as I made her to sit down. 

I simply gave her a smile and said, "Hope you enjoy yourself." I had a story about a unicorn to follow up on, so I retreated back to my room. From behind me, I heard a small noise of a happy kobold enjoying a much needed meal.

~~~

It was some time later, while I was combing over a passage in the journal when the sound of claws on wood caused me to turn around. Arki was right outside the room, standing there looking in at me. She looked like she had something on her mind, judging by the way she kept moving as if to walk forward only to catch herself and remain where she was. 

At the fifth time she made this sort of motion, I finally gave in. "Something wrong?" 

Sheepishly, she fidgeted and spoke up, "Arki give thank for food."

"Eh," I mumbled with a shrug. "Figured you must've been pretty hungry."

"Rayner want Arki make him food now?" 

A wave of my hand signaled no. "Maybe some other time." I turned back to continue my reading. 

"Oh. Yes yes," she breathed out. I noticed a lack of the sound of clawed footsteps. She was still there. 

I raised my voice a bit, without turning to face her, "Do you need anything, Arki?" 

I could hear her stumble with her words slightly before eeking out, "Arki wonder, what she do now?" 

I turned back to see her twiddling her thumbs again, her entire body swaying ever so slightly as she stood. "Whatever you want to do," I explained. "Make yourself comfortable." 

Still, her feet remained planted in place. Refusing to move, Arki looked away and mumbled something under her breath. When I asked her to speak up, she uttered out, "Arki not know what do. She never allowed free time. Always worked and worked." 

Gesturing to the bookshelf, I offered up, "Why not pick something from here? I'm sure I got at least one thing that might interest you." 

"No," she said rather bluntly. "Arki no like books. Have much words she no understand."

Puzzling, I thought. What could a kobold like Arki find to waste away time? Admittedly, I didn't have a lot in the cabin. A minimalistic life, some might call what I had. Regardless, I doubted Arki would prefer to sit in silence doing nothing. Surely, there had to be something. During my thoughts, I noticed Arki's attention seemed drawn to the other side of the room. But, the only thing there was my chest of clothings. Why would anyone be interested in...

It hit me like a brick. Her ragged and torn shirt. She must have desired something better. Something that might actually fit her small frame and didn't hang off like an old cloak. Something...that I clearly did not have. 

A loud slam came as I shut my book closed, causing my new housemate to jump at the noise. 

"We're going into town," I said simply. 

My words brought Arki's head to tilt quizzically. "Why for? Rayner leave town already, yes?"

"I forgot some supplies earlier," I lied. Figured I could keep my real intentions a surprise. Hopefully, Arki would like the result. 

She seemed to accept my words as truth, and so we set off. Judging by the sky overhead, it was only a bit after noon, perhaps only an hour or two. It was a bit of a surprise just how little time had passed since my morning hunt. With that in mind, I figured it wouldn't do any harm to laze about in town some while we were there. Maybe I could introduce Arki to some select peddlers and other business-minded people I knew. Perhaps I could put her on the path of a merchant herself by doing so. 

Regardless, that would be the future. And at present, we still had to make the journey to Raven Rock. A journey that, as always, passed by with little of note. The only interesting thing that happened was when Arki tripped over a rock and began to curse in what I assumed was her native tongue, throwing possible insults at the hapless little boulder that dared enter her path. I couldn't help but laugh a little at her being so upset at a simple rock. At the sound of my chuckles, she seemed to get a slight bit embarrassed, as for the rest of the trip to town she avoided looking my way.

At the gates, I made my hellos to the guardsmen as they waved us inside. Once in town proper for the second time in the same day, almost on habit, my feet tried to bring me to my stall. I had to conciously put in the effort to swerve off the beaten path and head to a tailor I knew. Arki was never far behind me, always a hairsbreadth away, one tiny fist holding onto the side of my tunic so as to not become separated. It brought back memories of myself as a child, strangely enough.

Putting those memories aside, I brought the two of us to the shop I was searching for. A small place in the corner, tucked between the gambling house and a bar. The tailor's place was fairly well kept, considering its neighoring businessnes. One might expect to find vomit or even a passed out drunk at the door to the shop, but one would be wrong. With practiced ease, I opened the door and pulled Arki inside. A small bell chimed above us as we walked in.

Hearing the bell, the woman sitting at the counter looked up. She was a fair-skinned woman from the highlands, her wheat golden hair pulled into braids. She took one look at us and said, "Didn't know you had any friends, Rayner." Her following smirk pissed me off.

"Very funny," I mused. I pushed Arki before me and gestured to the kobold. "Ya got anything in her size?" 

Arki, in turn, looked around the room and didn't seem to know what to do. She seemed confused as she looked up at me and mumbled, "For Arki size?"

I nodded and continued with the tailor. "If not, how long could it take to make something for her?" I pulled at the sleeve of Arki's frayed shirt then. "As you can see, she isn't in the best of outfits." 

"By the gods," the tailor scoffed. "Did you pull this one out of a gutter?" 

"Never you mind," I barked. 

The golden haired women rolled her eyes and jumped over the counter. Kneeling down in front of Arki, she pulled out a ruler and began to take measurements. Arki meanwhile stood stock still, allowing the tailor to do her job without so much as a single peep in protest. She didn't even say anything when Rose ordered her to remove the tattered shirt.

But, I did.

"You can't just demand her to strip!" 

She shrugged at my outburst. "Kobolds ain't got nothing to show off, anyway." Her smirk returned then as she seemed to get a wicked idea. "Aw, don't tell me the little hunter is shy about seeing some bare scales." 

"Fuck off," was my answer.

"Yea, I bet that's it. Poor Rayner, all cooped up in his cabin. Hasn't seen a woman in so long, he finally gets mad enough to bring a tiny lizard home. But first, he wants her to look the part of a proper woman, huh. And that's why you're in my shop. Am I right, or am I right?" 

Meanwhile, Arki seemed to take our 'discussion' in stride, as she simply pulled her shirt off and stood there. Trying to play the part of a gentleman, I at least turned my back to her, providing some decentcy to all this, even if Rose was having the time of her life berating me. I did catch a small glimpse of Arki's nude form, which showed...well nothing much. A bare chest devoid of any breasts, those darker red spots cascading down her stomach, and a slit between the legs. Nothing poking out of the slit, though. For all their similarities to humans, it seemed kobolds shared more in common with their baser cousins than I assumed. 

From behind, I heard Rose making little notes aloud as she took Arki's measurements. Eventually, she called out to me. "If ya give me about three, maybe four days, I can make something right for her size." 

"Just something nice," I responded over my shoulder. "Nothing outlandish, alright?" 

"So no lacey undergarments perfect for pulling off with your teeth?" 

"I can always take my business to Liam," I said, finally turning to face Rose again. 

As she laughed, her whole body moved with her. "Fine, fine," she said once the spasm subsided, "just plain clothes. I'll send a letter once I got it all done, ok?" 

From the corner of my eyes, I could see Arki returning her shirt to its previous position on herself, and took it as the sign of our departure. As I was hurrying Arki out the door, I could hear Rose behind me shouting, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Damned woman. Serves me right, thinking I could go to her for anything serious. At least the order was in. Now I just had to hope Rose kept her word about not making anything ridiculous.

"Why seamstress talk at Rayner such way?" The raspy voice of my newfound kobold friend broke me out of my annnoyance. She was standing there before me, her angular snout pointed right at me, her black horns pointed to the ground she had to look up so far to meet my gaze. 

"Rose is just being a bitch," came the answer. I didn't mean it, really. I was just aggravated with the woman. Insinuating I'd take someone off the street for cheap thrills. What kind of man did she think I was? "Just, ignore what she was saying. She always does this, rile up people. She gets some kind of sick joy out of it." 

Arki didn't have much to say in response, but I could see something must have been brewing in her mind. She had this look about her that said she wanted to ask more questions, but she didn't say anything else.

From there, I walked Arki to a blacksmith I knew. It was from this particular man I got all my crossbow bolts from. His shop was just off the main street, right next to the town's central boulder. Supposedly, his grandfather won the shop in a game of cards some decades back. But enough pointless tales. As we were walking, Arki seemed to piece things together.

"We not here for missing thing."

Well, kinda hard to hide it after the visit to the tailor, after all. "No," I said with a sigh. "Can't have you in rags. Gotta make sure you have good clothes."

A smile broke across her scaly maw. I didn't realize a decent outfit would mean so much to her. However, as quickly as the smile came, it left, replaced by a rather neutral look. "Arki thanks Rayner. Good clothes make work easy." Shrugging, I left it at that as I continued leading the way to the smith's. Beyond the crowded side streets, we came out into the center of town. Beside me, I could hear Arki scoff out, "Rock no look like raven. Town name more 'Blobby Rock.'" 

A sense of pride for that small joke filled me. In the back of my mind, I had the urge to give the short lizard woman an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

Instead, I let out a small chuckle, noting I always thought the same. Arki took the words as encouragement as she continued on, "Blobby Rock nicer name. Ravens mean birds. Make much noise, too." She further berated the offending birds as I walked us up to the smith's door.

The blacksmith's workshop was of hardy stone. The only thing not made of stone or brick was the wooden door, which looked warped just a tad. Likely the heat over the years' fault. Every single day, the smoke from the forge billowed out. From inside the worshop, the constant sound of clanging metal, banging hammers, and swearing could be heard. 

Needing no invitation, I happily waltzed inside, my new companion close behind, and the two of us were greeted to the sight of the burly forgemaster yelling at one of his apprentices. "...told you once, I've told you a thousand times: always by the books!" In one large hand, the smith held an odd dagger, its blade almost serpentine in design. "We've orders to fill, boy! We have no time for you messing about like this!" Standing just a foot away was the young apprentice, taking in the yells like a true champ. I supposed working closely with the smith got one quickly adjusted to his mannerisms. 

I cleared my throat, and the smith turned his head just enough so one eye could peek me from out the corner. He dismissed the apprentice with, "We'll finish this discussion later," and shooed the boy off to continue working. 

"Still giving you trouble, eh, old man?" 

"Nah," the forgemaster swiftly replied. "He's a good lad, just needs to get his head out the clouds." He eyed me up and down, then did the same to Arki before presenting an offer. "Anyway, ya need more bolts? Or are ya finally interested in dropping that coward's weapon and picking up a warrior's axe?"

Without missing a beat, I replied, "Until you can design an axe that can drop a beast from a hundred yards away, I'm gonna have to pass." As he shook his head in mock disappointment, I pushed Arki ahead of me. "No, we're here to find something suitable for her," I said while waving my hand beside the kobold, as if presenting her.

"Weapon for Arki?" The little lizard sounded just as surprised as she did at the tailor's.

I said with a small nod, "Well sure. You're gonna learn how to hunt. Need to have something to hunt with, after all." 

A second smile spawned upon her face. 

The smith walked closer and took another look at Arki, who swiftly returned to that same neutral face almost immediately. "Hm," he began to mumble, "short thing like you, not sure what a good hunting tool'd be. Prolly don't got the raw strength for a bow, and daggers n' such ain't no good for range." Bringing a hand to rub at his chin, he closed his eyes as he thought aloud. "A good axe or hammer'll be too heavy. Spears're too big for her, and making a short one's just asking for trouble down the line."

Seeing as he was beginning to run out of options, I decided to interject. "Perhaps, given everything, the best choice for hunting would be a 'coward's weapon,' as you call them?" 

In response, the smith grumbled out some unkind things about where I could stick my suggestion. But, he did seem to conclude a crossbow was the better option, as he left the room only to reappear a moment later with one such weapon. It was similar to my own, in fact. Same steel prod, same trigger mechanism, even the same bolts it looked like. Only difference I could tell was that while the stock of my crossbow was made from oak, this new one seemed to be created of ash wood. 

"This one here's worth a little less than a hundred and sixty crowns," the smith explained as he held it out for our viewing pleasure. "Pretty much the same as me other crossbows, just slightly cheaper." 

"Hope that means it's not cheaply made," I teased. A small snicker could be heard coming from the short scaly woman in front of me. 

The smith harumphed at the two of us. "You want it or can I just knock it against the wall for ya?" 

"Aw, don't be like that, old man," I pleaded. "You know I don't mean it. I know how good your craftmanship is. As if I'd keep buying from you if it wasn't top quality." 

"Top quality, eh?" The compliment seemed to calm him down some. And I meant every word of it. Old guy knew his weapons, and I didn't doubt for a second he'd ever skimp on anything.

After the smith handed the crossbow over to Arki, she began to turn the weapon over a few times, examining the whole of it. She let out a small humming noise as she tried to pull back the string. Try being the optimal word. Even when the kobold woman used both hands, she couldn't quite get the string to pass over the nut and lock in place. It would seem she lacked the strength for even a crossbow. But, all was not lost.

Seeing the small woman in such dire straits, the smith then pulled out a goat's foot lever from behind his back. He went on to explain its usage to Arki, in how the device was designed to help pull back the string more easily than by hand. He even went so far as to demonstrate for Arki, then made her do the same. As her black clawed fingers wrapped around the lever and pulled back, I saw the lack of that same strain from before. Even as the lever neared its ending point, Arki still managed with little stress whatsoever. At the finale, once the string was locked in place, Arki let out an odd throaty noise, as if in triumph at her accomplishment. 

The old smith smiled down at Arki, like he was sharing in her pride. "So, little miss, this one good for ya?" 

Arki blinked once. Twice. It seemed to take her a minute to process the question. Eventually, she found herself again and said, "Yes yes. Arki choose this one. Good weapon." The smith offered a length of rope so as Arki could keep the weapon around her back rather than carry it. The quick little devil herself tied it off before the old man could so much as explain a thing. Impressive, it was.

"Great," I spoke up with a smile while producing the payment for the crossbow. After handing off the coins to the smith, I turned back to my kobold companion. "When we get home, I can teach you to shoot that thing." She gave me a simple nod for her answer, and then we were off. After waving farewell to the smith, we were once more back onto the streets.

From there, I spent some time taking Arki along to meet with various other people I knew. An alchemist who tried to persuade Arki into giving up some scales for research purposes, Sheriff Anders just for kicks, Faye who tried to convince the kobold he was a world-renown menace of the seas (and failing to get the lass to fall for it, might I add), a handful of my fellow street vendors all of whom were more than happy to attempt to peddle their wares, and lastly the owner of the Dead Man's Drink who gifted the two of us with a free mug of ale each. 

While encountering each person, Arki was fairly quiet, taking in everything said. It was as if she was studying everyone, she was so silent and attentive. But, once we left whatever establishment we had visited, Arki would then ask questions. Usually she asked why we met that particular person, which I always answered by letting her know she'd need to become acquainted with them if she was going to be working under me. Sometimes, she also questioned if the individual at hand was good at their job. Being honest, I said not a single person laxed in their duties. 

Once, she asked a personal question. She wondered how I came to find myself in Raven Rock in the first place. I told her what I told anyone who ever brought up that topic: it was either this or Telvin. 

Telvin was not a nice place. Bandits, assassins, rogues. The works. Awful city. I still had 'fond' memories of my last time amongst those folk years back.

Arki seemed satisfied with the answer, as she refrained from asking more questions at the time. Instead, she occupied the silent moments by bringing her clawed feet up to nearby buildings, looking at the goings-on within. Of course, because she still chose to hold onto the side of my tunic while out on the streets, I was sort of forced to go along with her. Not that it mattered much. We had time to kill, after all. And she appeared quite pleased doing her investigation of sorts.

~~~

Eventually, Arki got tired of walking around and we found ourselves taking a small rest by a statue of some goddess I knew nothing about. It was something the church had put up some months prior. It depicted a visage of a tall, faceless woman in a flowing gown. It seemed to radiate an aura of warmth, as if by just sitting there besides the statue, one's worries and cares of the day would just slip away, if but for a small time. 

As I stood up, I could feel a now familiar weight on the side of my tunic. I turned my head and saw Arki, still sat down on the bench. "Not ready to go yet?"

She gave a slight shake of her head before opening her maw. "Arki enjoy sit here. Nice place. Quiet. Calm. No noisy peoples yell at another." 

I had to hand it to her, she was right. Compared to the streets full of vendors and tourists, this little spot was positively relaxing. But, sadly, all good things must end at some point. And, to further my point, the sky overhead was slowly growing darker. Honestly, it came as a bit of a shock to realize just how much time we had spent wandering the town. It felt like only minutes since we arrived, and already the sun was beginning to sink below the horizon. 

After sharing this fact about the time, I said, "Besides, we still need to get you shooting your new crossbow. I plan on hunting in a few days, and you're gonna need to know what you're doing if I'm gonna bring you along with me." 

She thought on this for a moment or two before standing up. "Arki ready leave now," she chirped. The weapon in question was handing on her back, and with each step we took, it gave a little hop in time. Likely, this was due to how the butt of the stock rested just above the base of her tail, and as she swayed that in time with her footsteps it would bump against the stock. 

Once we were out of Raven Rock and back on the road, Arki moved away from me a bit, letting her hand release my tunic. The trip back wasn't much interesting, though I did point out the rock Arki tripped over before, which got her a bit flustered. Other than that, however, it was a nice little journey. Along the way, my little kobold friend brought up some more questions.

"How long Rayner live here?"

I saw no harm in idulging her. "Couple years now. I wanna say...six. Maybe seven."

"Where Rayner live before?" 

"The capital."

This seemed to spark interest. "Rayner live in Gold Valley?" She said this with an odd glint in her eyes.

"Yea. I kinda..." I stalled for a second as the memories flooded back in. "...lived on the streets for a time. One day, I tried stealing from this pretty wealthy old man. Owned his own weapon shop. I got caught almost immediately." A smile snaked its way across my lips as an image of the shop owner came to mind. "But, rather than out me to the guards and throw me in prison, he took me on as a worker. Taught me how to be a merchant just like him."

"Like Rayner plan do Arki?" 

"Exactly," I said with a nod. "Anyway, I worked for him for a while until I left about thirteen years ago." 

"Wait," Arki interuppted. "If Rayner leave thirteen years, and only live here seven years, what happen other years?" 

"I lived on the road. Didn't have a real home during that time. But, I hunted where I could and sold everything I caught. Eventually, I managed to scrounge enough to afford my little cabin." 

In the distance, the house in question was coming up in sight, and my companion seemed to be done with her mini interrogation for now. As we neared the house, I noticed the sun was almost entirely gone from the sky, and the stars were beginning to shine forth. An owl cooed in the distant trees, and his call was met with a possible mate's. A few fireflies had decided to light themselves as they buzzed around here and there. 

Seeing as night was to fall soon, I announced to Arki that we would have to postpone her little training session. She didn't say anything, merely gave me an odd wave of her wrist as some kind of response. What she meant by it, I had no clue. Whatever it meant, she offered no resistance to the announcement and headed inside. 

After stepping inside, I bore witness to the short dragonkin very carefully putting her new crossbow down on the ground beside my own. Afterwards, she elected to go around the room, lighting candles and the like to brighten things up a bit. The soft light of the flames danced about the room, giving a nice glow to everything. 

"Might wanna put those out," I mumbled, pointing to all the candles.

A tilt of the head was likely Arki's way of asking why.

"We're gonna be up bright and early tomorrow so you can learn to shoot."

And with that, the lass went about putting out each candle, and in the same exact order she went about lighting them, I noticed. When she got to the last few candles, I realized I lacked a second bed for my new worker. As my gaze swept over the room, my sight fell on the one other place I'd often slept. The most comfortable chair I'd ever had the pleasure of sitting upon.

"Arki." 

She stopped before she put out the last three candles. Her golden eyes gave off a slight glow of their own in the dim light when she turned to face me.

"See that chair?" I stuck a thumb in its direction, and she nodded in response. "Until I can get something together, you can sleep there. I know it doesn't look like much, but trust me when I say you'll fall in love with it."

"Hm," came her answer as she walked over to the chair in question. Reaching out, she touched the furs adorning the seat, and at once she let out an odd little sound. "Soft fur," her raspy voice mumbled out. "Warm fur. Good sleeping." A finger traced along the edge of the chair's furs while she spoke. Seemingly impressed with her temporary sleeping arrangments, Arki sat down and sank into the chair, letting out another soft coo of delight. "Ooh, yes yes, so soft." 

As I put out those final candles, I wished the reptilian woman a good night's sleep, then retreated to my own soft furs, enveloping myself in their warmth as sleep took me in its embrace.


End file.
